Huntress Read online

  Huntress

  Gods of War Chronicles Reverse Harem

  Elizabeth Hartwell

  Contents

  Also by Elizabeth Hartwell

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Preview: Guardians of Magic

  About the Author

  Also by Elizabeth Hartwell

  Guardians of the Fae Series:

  Book 1 - Guardians of Magic

  Book 2 - Guardians of Hellfire

  Book 3 - Guardians of Moonlight

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  Prologue

  The Gods

  It should make sense that the gods use beds.

  After all, for the most part, the myths that were handed down for millennia stated that humanity was more or less made in their image. While that isn’t quite what happened, it’s true enough for government work, as humans would say back when their governments ruled the world.

  But no human ever slept in a bed like this. The cavern’s huge, with a ceiling so high that, if desired, clouds could gather and even a light misting rain can fall on the occupants. The center’s filled with a magical lake, with sleeping quarters on the banks. The walls shift in color, lit from inside with any color the occupant desires, some of which aren’t even visible to the human eye.

  It makes resting, sleeping, or any other bedroom activities a truly memorable experience.

  Although for the handsome, dark-haired man lying on the bed, his chest covered in sweat and his body aching with immortal aches, he doesn’t know what could make the scene in front of his eyes any more memorable. The woman above him is the epitome of beauty, her hips rolling as she milks his cock for the last of his seed, her head thrown back and her breasts quaking as her own orgasm sends shockwaves through the air.

  She collapses into his arms, and he catches her, rolling her to the side so as not to pin him underneath her. The goddess of lust and beauty she might be, but Sune is also no skinny stick figure of a woman. Thick thighs, curvy hips, and breasts that shook with every shuddering breath tantalize his eyes. Those delicious curves require flesh, and Bane preferred to breathe after such a sexy, athletic fuck.

  “You know, Bane, you can just say I smother you with my tits,” Sune says as she giggles, adjusting herself and making them shrink a good cup size. It’s one of her powers that Bane appreciates. She can be exactly what her partner wants when she chooses to. As long as she gets what she wants, she’ll give her partner the same in kind. “I don’t mind.”

  “Bullshit,” Bane says, chuckling. “You’re the most beautiful being ever birthed by the universe and can enchant even the likes of me. But you are not known for your acceptance of criticisms.”

  Sune preens, her body shivering at Bane’s fawning praise. It’s true. As the goddess of love, beauty, sex, and desire, she’s used to being put, quite literally, on a pedestal. And there is no better way to get her on your good side than to claim her beauty as unparalleled.

  Conversely, the worst way to incur her wrath is to ignore her advances. As Bane needs her on his side, and because sex with her easily stands out in an eternity of hedonistic pleasures, he never passes up a chance to sheath his spear in her tight cleft.

  “Sune, I was wondering, just what is our Sulis up to?” he asks, tracing an alabaster pale collarbone with his dusky finger. As the god of darkness and death, the skin tone just came naturally after countless millennia. Now it stands out again, an appealing contrast to Sune’s skin that pleases him even more. “She hasn’t been visiting me lately.”

  Sune chuckles, reaching down to wrap her fingers around Bane’s cock and pumping it slowly. Even god-like cocks need some rest, but her desire wouldn’t wait much longer. “Most likely, trying to convince her offspring to stop fucking around and move the Earth back into its proper orbit. Apollo has always been a . . . difficult one.”

  Bane chuckles, moaning lightly as Sune’s hand teases him back to full hardness. “Still, I—”

  “My Lord Bane,” says a voice, interrupting them. Bane rolls over, not angry as he knows that his servants would not interrupt him without it being a matter of eternal life or death. After all, when one literally controls the pits of Hell, tossing servants there for a century or two isn’t a major problem.

  He looks, seeing the demigod warrior, Thanatos, waiting for him, his armor gleaming black and his Boeotian helmet held respectfully under his right arm. Bane lets the demigod keep the remnants of his mortal coil for his own amusement mostly, as it breaks up the monotony. Thanatos bows, furling his wings as his Lord and Master gets out of bed, unashamed of his nudity or his aroused cock.

  Sune, however, is furious. “You pathetic little Trojan pisspot!” she screeches, bringing up her hand in order to hurl him across the room with her power. “How dare you interrupt us when we’re engaged in godly—”

  “My sweet Sune, please forgive him,” Bane says, smiling at her with all the tenderness his dark heart can muster. He can afford to play nice now because he knows once this is over, he’ll be able to take all his anger out on her in a way that’ll leave her begging for more. How dare she, even in her power, threaten one of his servants in his own palace?

  But Bane understands, and is willing to be patient with the flightiest of goddesses. After all, he can smell the wetness from Sune’s pussy even now. She was ready for a fresh round and was denied her sought after prize. Sune glowers, pouting. “Bane, we were—”

  “I know, oh, most lovely of visions,” Bane says, interrupting her. “And while my loins ache for the sweet embrace of your body, the velvety touch of your lips on my cock, and the taste of your pussy’s wine upon my tongue, I did give Thanatos orders to interrupt me regarding certain matters. I am sure that Thanatos was only being a good servant, are you not, my son?”

  Thanatos, whose own cock has grown to stiffness even as he feels the touch of fear at the wrath of the sex goddess, nods dumbly once before clearing his throat and continuing. “Yes, my Lord. It has to do with the . . . bloodline.”

  Bane grins, his dark laughter causing many on the Earthly realm to shiver. In one portion of what had once been Mongolia, a man grabs his chest, his heart failing as the darkness strikes him down in the prime of life.

  Not that Bane cares. It’s just another victim for him, and his pity or sense of justice for Earth had been obliterated long ago.

  “You may speak freely, Thanatos. Sune won’t spill the beans about my little search now, will she? After all, it’s a mission of love.”

  Sune laughs. “Bane, you’re the god of many things . . . but never has love touched that dark heart of yours. Not even my powers can do that. But yes, I’ll keep my mouth shut . . . if you give me reason to.”

  Oh, I certainly will, Bane thinks. He turn
s back to Thanatos, waving him on. Thanatos clears his throat again and continues. “We think we’ve found the one whose blood is the key you’ve been looking for.”

  “Oh, really?” Bane asks, overcome with glee. Finally, after so long, his plan could come to fruition. “And where are they? He or she?”

  “A man, my Lord. And we believe he lives in . . . in Bane.”

  Bane blinks, tilting his head back as peals of laughter bounce off the walls of his bedroom. Of course, it would be that easy. An entire generation of searching, and his search ends in his own proverbial backyard. After all, he’d spread most of his seed in that area after the Apocalypse.

  But he was a god, not omniscient. And he didn’t have all the information he needed even now.

  “What should I do, my Lord?”

  Bane thinks and looks back at Sune, whose pout has started to threaten not only his good mood but his evening plans. He doesn’t want to have to spend any time trying to coax her back into his bed. “Find him and make sure he’s protected at all costs. He will be the one we need when we find the girl. Check with our agents on that front as well.”

  Thanatos touches his breastplate, saluting his master and spreading his wings. “As you command.”

  With a flap of his wings and a swirl of black flame, Thanatos disappears, leaving behind nothing but specks of dust. Bane strokes his trimmed beard and walks over to the edge of the water, squatting down to peer into the reflective pool.

  It takes a moment, but after a time, the reflection clears and a girl appears. She is just on the cusp of full adulthood, Bane would say twenty to twenty-three or so, but if her bloodline is what he needs, she could be as old as fifty. She’s tall for a woman, perhaps five foot ten or so, athletic and shapely, with dark black hair that he could appreciate. It spoke to her being more than just a carbon copy of her immortal ancestor.

  What strikes him most is her piercing green eyes. They perfectly framed a small upturned nose, and freckles dotted her rosy cheeks. Still, her face isn’t flawless. She has a scar under her left eye, but it adds to her beauty in Bane’s eye. She’s a warrior, and that’s something he can always appreciate.

  Sensing a presence behind him, he feels Sune place her hands on his shoulders, playfully rubbing his skin. “A new playmate for you to wear out?”

  “Hmm? No, my beautiful bedmate,” Bane says, waving his hand and dismissing the image. “Besides, I have the best in my bed. Why settle for some mortal?”

  Sune chuckles as Bane stands, gathering her in his arms. “That’s never stopped our kind before. Besides, there’s only one of me to go around. And so many hungers to satiate. I don’t mind, as long as you save the best for me.”

  He reaches down, squeezing her ass and making Sune moan as his cock nestles between her legs. He doesn’t push in but keeps her there, his shaft rubbing against her clit and feeling her syrupy honey smear all over his skin. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Teasing you?” Bane asks, grinning. “Because I can hear the jealousy in your voice, Sune. And I want you to know that this mortal doesn’t hold a whisper to your beauty, nor could she ever take my cock the way you do. And you want me to take it again, don’t you?”

  “Mmm. You know I do,” she moans, her power also her weakness. “But that’s not what I mean. Who is she?”

  “The key,” Bane says, lifting Sune up and carrying her to the bed. “To something . . . long-planned.”

  He wishes he could say more, not that he’d tell Sune. But something is blocking his knowledge, the same something that blocks all direct action by the gods to human affairs and limits them to the natural world or indirect action through demigods.

  But he needs to see. He needs to know her name, who she was. All he knew . . . was that she was of Sulis’s bloodline. There could be hundreds of thousands by this point, however. Even in a world rebuilding, where humanity is all but extinct and only the lines touched or twisted by the gods survive, Sulis’s bloodline could spread far.

  And she blocks him at every turn.

  Soon, that would all change. Soon, all will be his.

  But for now, Bane sets aside his machinations against his bitterest rival to feast on the bounty before him of his most beautiful companion. Grabbing her by the throat, he pushes her into the bed. “Now, my sweet, beautiful Sune,” he growls, preparing his fleshy spear for the thrust, “Now, you’ll learn why the humans call it ‘the little death’.”

  With a hard stroke, Bane begins his lesson.

  Chapter 1

  Cerena

  For nineteen years, I have trained, pushing myself harder and further than even my esteemed peers.

  Nineteen years, knowing that one day, I’ll have my chance at vengeance.

  I cannot call it revenge, for that is not the Hunter way.

  But regardless of the word, it is mine.

  For nineteen years, I have lived knowing that the werewolves were the ones who took my mother and father away from me.

  Soon . . . very soon . . . I shall take all from them.

  I am vengeance.

  I am the whisper in the daylight.

  I am the Huntress.

  “Gabriel, bring that spear point up!” I bark, striding up and down the rows, my eyes missing nothing. “A vampire sees an opening that big, and your blood will be flowing faster than the piss can roll down your leg!”

  The boy, eleven years old and a fresh Youngling, just promoted from the Initiate level, quavers but does what I ask. I look around at the twelve faces arrayed in front of me, shaking my head. Twelve faces, all of them eleven to fourteen years old . . . and so far to go.

  At least, the ones who get that far. Not everyone does, and not everyone who fails does so willingly. The Academy doesn’t try to kill its students, but it has been known to happen.

  “Basic thrust to block and sweep series. Move!” I bark, watching as the class leaps into action. It’s a move most of them have probably been sneaking in since they could hold a stick and one they probably mock whenever an instructor’s back is turned.

  But my very first kill on a Hunt used this technique. It’s still in the curriculum because it works.

  “Sweep that leg, Kristina, don’t tickle it!” I critique, watching her halfhearted snap. I see the mistake. She doesn’t have enough control of her spear, and she’s worried about losing her balance. Stepping closer, I grab her hands. “The key is to use the weight of your spearhead. But to do that, you have to bring it close!”

  “That’ll bring it near my head,” Kristina whines fearfully. She’s a pretty girl, the kind that’s already getting attention from boys her age or even older, and with that comes a certain . . . hesitancy.

  “If you’re worried about those baby blues of yours, or those flawless cheekbones, perhaps you can just cut yourself now and not have to worry about it any longer,” I rasp. “Because if you don’t get your head pulled from your ass, you’re going to end up with it torn from your shoulders. Now do it again!”

  Class continues, and as we keep going, Kristina tries more. I think it’s mostly because of the boys. Of the twelve students, nine are boys, and all of them have found someone new to ogle instead of Kristina in her tight little Youngling uniform. They’ve got me.

  Like I said, I know the ‘curse’ of the pretty ones. I was turning heads too back when I was her age. I had a reason to work past it, and even though I still turn heads, I use it to my advantage. Even now, with the scar underneath my left eye, I turn heads when I walk into a room.

  That’s right boys, watch me. Tonight, when you’re doing what you think is wrong and is actually just your hormonal bodies doing what’s natural, think of me. Strive to impress me, because in a few years, when you’re out there in the real world doing field work, I want you to come home. I want you to come back inside the walls of Solace in one piece. I want you to come back alive so that you can protect and be there for the girl who is meant for you.

  Because she sure as hell isn’t me.

 
; Instead of encouraging them though, as the sun rises and the heat starts to build and sweat trickles down dusty skin, I keep driving them.

  They’re not going to like me. I’m not here for them to like me, I’m here to instruct them.

  There are going to be blisters on their hands and aches in their shoulders, and this afternoon, they’ll have stiff backs while sitting in class for their scholastic lessons. Good. Maybe they’ll pay more attention tomorrow because of it.

  After finishing up the basics, all of the Younglings’ tunics are soaked through with sweat, the khaki-colored fabric looking like wet sand and their hair plastered to their skulls.

  “Grab some water,” I instruct them, finally cutting them a break. “Gather around.”

  The Younglings go over to their water bottles and uncap them, drinking gratefully. I watch them, noting with approval how they sip through their straws. Growing up within Solace and within the Hunter Academy, they’ve been able to drink triple-filtered water since birth . . . but outside the walls is different. There, making sure you don’t overwhelm your water filtration kits can be the difference between slaking your thirst and a terrible, lingering illness or death.

  They’re pretty good, and despite their ages, they’ve got water discipline, at least. It’s encouraging. Maybe they’ll get through the rest of their training and some of them will become good field Hunters.